Ndugu
by Sheogorath
Summary: ARGH, they don't let you put very much for a summary, do they? You're just gonna have to trust the number of chapters and reviews, all good, that Ndugu is a must read!
1. Meet Ndugu

The Elder Scrolls III: Morrowind

As seen by Sheogorath

In the waning years of the third era of Tamriel, a child is born on a certain day to uncertain parents...

"Wait, what do you mean? Were they not sure they wanted to have him?"

What? Oh yes, they had considered an abortion. Now, anyways-

"-They had that back then? And what was the date exactly?"

Huh? I dunno, they didn't have a calendar okay? Now then-

"-They didn't have calendars but they could perform abortions?"

Jesus #$%& Christ kid I'm tryin' to tell a story. Why don't you shut your mouth and listen for one second in your life?

"..."

That's better. Now, as I was trying to say, the Imperials that now ruled much of Tamriel had sent him from his native land, first by carraige, and now by boat...to Morrowind, ignorant of the role he was to play in the land.

"Who's this 'Jesus Christ'? Is he the person you're telling the story about?"

GOD DAMN IT KID! **Shotgun blast in the face**

"Wake up...why are you shaking? Are you alright? Wake up," he heard a voice calling. He woke up to the face of a Dunmer.

"OMG, LOOK AT THE SIZE OF THAT SCAR! WHAT THE HELL HAPPENED TO YOU?!" he screamed.

"Oh this?" he asked touching the scar with his fingertips, "Well...don't you remember last night?"

"WHAT?!"

"Oh, I guess that concusion you suffered must have wiped your memory. My names Jiub," he said.

"Wait, what about that whole last night thing?" he asked in fear.

"Huh? Oh, I was just kidding," Jiub explained.

"Doesn't feel like it..." he said rubbing his ass. "By the way, where are we?"

"You really don't remember? We're on a prisoner/slave transport ship to Morrowind. Speaking of which, I think I've heard them say we've reached the place, I'm sure they'll let us go," Jiub said.

Suddenly they noticed an Imperial guard walking up to them, "This is where you get off, come with me," he said.

"Sweet! We're finally getting off this damn boat!" Jiub said excited, "I filled practically all of these buckets with puke when I was sea sick, and the first thing we can do when we get off is get married, just like you promised!" he said to the other prisoner/slave.

"WHAT THE HELL?!"

"Alright Jiub, that's enough out of you. Come with me," the Imperial said to the prisoner/slave.

"Huh, but what about him?" he asked pointing to Juib.

"Oh, we'll take good care of him," the Imperial said assuringly. He tried to rush him up to the upper deck.

"Goodbye Ndugu!" Juib said cheerfully just before the door was closed, locking he and the guard inside. Suddenly Ndugu heard the sound of a gun being fired and the guard came out with blood on his armor. He glanced around and closed the door behind him.

"Get yourself up on deck and let's keep this as civil as possible," another guard said noting Ndugu's dark brown skin.

"What, just 'cause I'm black means I'm gonna start robbing and pillaging everyone in this town?!" he argued. He bitch slapped the guard and went up to the upper deck (note: this does not count as punching a guard, and he wasn't drunk), where he saw another Redguard waiting for him. "Oh what's up my brotha'?" he said cheerfully.

"Uh hi..." the Redguard replied, "This is where they want you, head down to the dock and he'll show you to the Census Office,"

"But...it's right there at the end of the dock..." he said with a curious smile.

"Well...we can't take the risk of you running around on your own," the Redguard said.

"WHAT?! NOW BROTHA'S DON'T TRUST ME?!" he yelled. The Redguard shook his head in defeat and finally kicked Ndugu in the chest, sending him flying towards the Census Office. He flew over the guard's head and smashed through the door, landing at another Imperial's feet, only this one was clad in a robe rather than armor. Since Ndugu was lying face up he could see up the robe. He got up instantly.

"OMG, AT LEAST WEAR SOME UNDERWEAR UNDER THAT THING!" he yelled.

"If it feels good, do it," he responded. "We've been expecting you. You'll have to fill out these papers before you're officially released," he paused when he saw that Ndugu was black. "You do know how to read and write don't you?"

"GOD DAMN IT!" Ndugu began, he made his usual banter for about half an hour before the guard inside the office finally knocked him out from behind.

"Thank God," the man said. "I'll just fill these out..." he said as he wrote various information on the papers. He finished and smiled at his wit, for he had filled his information to suit the characteristics of a ballerina. "Hey, check out what I put for his class," he said to the guard. They both chuckled and suddenly Sellus Gravvius burst into the room.

"Do I hear laughter?!" he yelled.

"No sir!" the two said startled.

"Good! Now give me the prisoner," he said grasping Ndugu's crumpled form. He turned around one last time, "NOW GET BACK TO WORK!"

"Hard ass..." the guard muttered.

"I HEARD THAT!" Sellus yelled from the other room.

Shortly thereafter...

"Now then..." Sellus said laying Ndugu's unconscious body gently on the bedroll in the next room, "I heard that you had quite the reputation for entertaining our Jiub on the ship..." he looked at the forms, "Ooh, a ballerina! You're just the kind of man I've been...lusting for," he said passionately. "How would you like a little cream in your coffee?" he asked seductively. Somehow Ndugu heard the racially tuned comment and snapped out of his coma, in doing so headbutting Sellus in the face and knocking him out.

"WHAT IS UP WITH EVERYBODY TALKING SHIT ABOUT US BLACK FOLK?!" he yelled. Suddenly he noticed the unconscious Sellius and took all of his Imperial Templar armor, then left the building, leaving the forms next to the body. When he went outside in the courtyard he saw a barrel, and remembered how he needed to use the bathroom.

"Damn that Jiub using all of the buckets for his puke," he muttered, whipping it out. Suddenly he noticed a ring inside the barrel. It was enchanted so he assumed that it might be worth some money. He took it out before doing his bussiness and went into the next part of the Census Office. He looked around and saw a key. He took that too. He left and found himself in the city of Seyda Neen, where his adventure in Morrowind would begin.

**That was the end of Chapter One. Hope you liked it so far. Do you know who Ndugu is? I'll give you a hint: he's a foster child in a Jack Nicolson film. That might give it away but w/e, funny thing is that I actually have a character just like him on my game, except he's a Gangsta. Lvl 42! My most powerful char. (even though he was actually intended to be a joke...)**


	2. Hangin' with Fargoth in Seyda Neen

Chapter 2

Ndugu looked around at his new home away form home. "Wait, where was home again?" he asked himself as walked towards a young Dunmer woman. On his way he bumped into a Bosmer.

"Watch where you're goin' sum' bitch," he said.

"What? Don't make me break my foot off in yo' ass," Ndugu yelled back.

"I'm sorry," the Bosmer, "Let's start over, my name's Fargoth. Pleased to meet you,"

Ndugu eyed him suspiciously before finally shaking his hand and introducing himself, "The name's Ndugu, or at least that's what I'm told. So what's up, why were you being such an asshole just now?"

"Really I've got nothing to complain about. I've got people who worship me, and I got all da' hoes. But...those damn Imperials took my ring! It's a green ring, and it was stolen from Emperor Tiber Septim by my great grandfather Faggoth. It's a family heirloom!" he said.

"Ndugu instantly knew the ring which Fargoth spoke of, "Uh, I'm sorry, I don't know anything about it and I've got to uh...hmm, come to think of it, what am I here for...?" he trailed of and scratched his chin in thought. Unfortunately the hand he used to scratch his chin was the very one the ring was on.

"Hey, is that my ring?" Fargoth asked. Ndugu glanced at his hand in surprise. The two looked at each other and Ndugu decked Fargoth in the face before he could react, knocking him cold. Fargoth screamed like a girl as he clutched his face, collapsing on the ground. A few guards took notice.

"Look, that black guy is robbing that Bosmer," one of them said.

"What?!" he asked. He was going to say something to them about how every time they see a white dude on the ground the black guy's always the prime suspect, but they suddenly drew a variety of short swords and spears. "Oh shit!" he yelled as he ran to the nearest building. He ran inside. "Good thing NPC's can't open doors," he said as he breathed a sigh of relief. He noticed people staring at him. "Er, I mean...guards..." Suddenly the guards burst into the room. "Oh shit (again)!" he ran up the stairs and jumped out of a window, the guards staring at him in disbelief as he sailed across Seyda Neen.

"That's impossible," one of them said under his breath, awestruck. Suddenly Ndugu whipped around in midair and started chuckin' throwing knives at them. He hit them every fatal spot you could think of and they collapsed to the ground, wondering where he got the knives in the first place.

"Where did I get these knives in the first place?" Ndugu wondered. He shrugged and threw the rest of them at Fargoth's unconscious body. Somehow they all missed. "Shit!" he yelled in frustration. Have you noticed that I haven't said anything about his landing? That's cause he was still in the air when all of this was happening. Gravity failed him and he continued to ascend in a straight diagonal line away from the building from which he jumped. "What the hell?!" he screamed as he climbed ever higher. He circled Tamriel and finally landed on top of another guard, crushing him instantly. Ndugu brushed off the entrails of the guard he'd landed on and the frost that had accumulated from orbiting the earth outside of it's atmosphere. "Wait, shouldn't I have been burned too? I mean, the speed at which I was traveling when I reentered the atmosphere should have-" suddenly he burst into flames. "AHH, AHH, OH GOD HELP ME!" he screamed in agony.

"Okay," Vivec said from his Palace. Suddenly it started raining and Ndugu's flames were smothered.

"Whew, thanks God," Ndugu said.

"Don't mention it," Vivec said.

"Hey wait a minute you're not God," Ndugu said. Suddenly he burst into flames again. "OKAY, OKAY YOU'RE GOD!" he yelled. They were instantly put out.

"That's right sum' bitch," Vivec said.

"Hard ass..." Ndugu muttered.

"I heard that," Vivec said.

Later, Ndugu calmly walked into the building where the whole guard, jumping out of the window shit happened and once again, everyone was staring at him. "How much can I get for this?" he asked Arrille, placing Fargoth's ring on the counter.

Arrille glanced at the ring, "Ten Septims," he said returning to his newspaper.

"WHAT?! TEN SEPTIMS?! I WENT THROUGH ALL THAT SHIT FOR TEN SEPTIMS?!" Ndugu yelled, enraged.

"Yup," Arrile replied calmly without so much as an upward glance.

"My great grandfather stole this from Tiber Septim himself!" he said mimicking Fargoth's claim.

"Good for him," Arrille said blandly. Ndugu merely stared at him.

"You're an asshole you know that?" he said.

"Well I don't get paid to suck your dick do I?" Arrille asked. Ndugu stomped out of the trade house and spotted Fargoth getting up. He was so mad he got a hemorrhoid.

"Take your damn ring!" he said lobbing it at the Bosmer. It hit him in the temple and knocked him out once again. Suddenly Ndugu noticed the stinging pain of the hemorrhoid. "God damn," he said rubbing his ass, "is this from Jiub as well?" he walked up to the Dunmer woman he'd originally intended to speak with. "Hey you," he said. She looked around in alarm and threw her coin purse down at his feet.

"Take it, it's all I have," she said nonchalantly.

"Damn it woman, just 'cause I'm black doesn't mean I want to; hey is this real Netch leather?" he said rubbing the purse. The hemorrhoid snapped him back into reality. "Ow, shit! Look, all I wanna know is where the Apothecary is," he said.

"Well there's virtually nothing here in Seyda Neen, but Balmora has Narlycad of White Haven, a fine Alchemist. And Balmora's a big, rich city, with plenty of stuff for you to steal," she said.

"I don't wanna steal shit, I just wanna get this damn hemorrhoid off my ass!" he yelled, partly due to frustration and partly due to the searing pain in his ass. "How do I get there?" he asked.

"It's about ¾ of a mile northwest, but you can take a silt strider for faster, easier, less dangerous travel," she said.

"That thing?" he asked pointing to the big bug.

"Yes,"

"Thanks," he said making his way towards the silt strider.

"What about my purse?!" she asked.

"Keep it," he said.

"You still have it retard!" she yelled.

"HAH, HAH!" he mocked as he ran off with it, then he found out that running wasn't the best idea in the world. "OMG MY ASS!" he screamed. Finally he arrived at the silt strider port. "Take me to Balmora," he whimpered through his gritted teeth of pain.

"That'll be 934 Septims," the caravaner said calmly.

"WHAT?!" Ndugu yelled, only causing more pain.

"You can get a discount if you talk to that guy over there," she said pointing to Vodonnius Nuccius, 15ft away. Ndugu looked over at him and the pain of the hemorrhoid made that distance stretch into miles.

"I can't do it!" he cried.

"And you can get an enchanted ring worth a hundred Septims," she offered.

"For free?" he asked.

"Nah, I just wanted to see you in pain," she said.

"You sadistic bitch!"Ndugu yelled.

"That'll be 15 Drakes," she said ignoring his insult.

"Wait, Drakes? I thought they were Septims," Ndugu said.

"We also call them gold pieces. Did you know that they don't weigh anything?" she asked.

"That doesn't seem possible," Ndugu said.

"It's true," she said with a smile. Suddenly the pain broke through again, "ARRGHH! JUST TAKE ME TO BALMORA FOR GOD'S SAKE!" he screamed, throwing the stolen coin purse in her face with one hand and clutching his ass with the other.

"Okay," she said. They both got in the huge bug carapace and off they went, headed for new adventures in Balmora (well, Ndugu is anyways).


	3. Nalcarya of White Haven and the Scrib Me...

Chapter 3

Ndugu arrived in Balmora, "Damn, you didn't tell me it was going to be a bumpy ride!" he said, the agony clear in his voice as well in the throbbing hemorrhoid that had long since grown so large that it had erupted out of his pants. He waddled over to the nearest guard. "Where's Nalcarya of White Haven?"

"It's over on the east side of Balmora. Go up the stairs that lead to the Hlaalu Council House and make a left. Go through the alley and her shop is straight ahead, you can't miss it," the guard replied.

"Oh thank God, a nice guard!" Ndugu said.

"Do not say the Lord's name in vain!" the guard roared suddenly as he whipped out his sword. Ndugu screamed and ran towards the Alchemist, ignoring the intense pain that shot through his rectum. "There is no escape!" another guard said as he joined in the pursuit. Finally Ndugu ducked into a house. He closed and locked the door behind him, then turned around only to find a corpse in the middle of the floor.

"Eep!" Ndugu squealed in fear. He was adamant about continuing until he felt the guards pressing against the door behind him. He reluctantly tiptoed around the body. "I AM a ballerina after all..." he muttered to himself. Suddenly he noticed that the corpse was holding a Silver Long Sword in it's hand. "Could be worth something..." he thought as he picked up the weapon.

Suddenly the guards erupted into the room. Ndugu froze as he watched the guards turn their heads to look at the body, then the sword, then Ndugu. They repeated this several times until finally one of them cried out: "He's killed Ralen Hlaalo!"

"No!" Ndugu yelled as he continued upstairs, his hemorrhoid hitting every step. He turned the corner and bolted out of the door. He contemplated jumping from the ledge but remembered what happened in Seyda Neen. Before he could do anything else however, the guards exploded through the door and caused Ndugu to fall off the two-story balcony. He screamed before hitting the pavement. Luckily the hemorrhoid broke his fall, exploding in the process. Blood and general ass juice splashed up on the unsuspecting guards and hapless citizens that happened to be in the wrong place at the wrong time.

"OMG THAT'S DISCUSTING!" everyone screamed. This distraction gave Ndugu enough time to make a break for the alchemist's shop. He ran in and slammed the door behind him. He calmly walked up to Nalcarya.

"How may I help you?" she asked.

"I had a hemorrhoid, but it's gone now. From what I've heard they last for a lifetime and I was wondering if you could conjure up a cure," he explained.

"I'd like to help you, I really would, but unfortunately hemorrhoids are a lesser known form of corprus, and is thus incurable, which explains why they last a lifetime," she said.

"No...it's over..." he said in shock and defeat. He sank to the ground and slumped against the wall. Suddenly (again) the guards and pissed off town folks burst through the door, demanding Ndugu's life.

"You'll not have him!" Nalcarya declared, "He has the divine disease and must be harbored to safety!"

"He must die!" one declared.

"How'd you find me?!" Ndugu yelled in surprise and alarm.

"Simple," one of the guards said, "we followed the trail of ass blood," Ndugu looked at his torn rectum, oozing the few precious pints he had left.

"That and you only ran about 30ft to get here," another person said.

"NOW DIE!" the mob said in unison.

"Run, I'll hold them off!" Nalcarya said to Ndugu.

"But where?!"

"Tel Fyr. There's a Telvanni wizard there who might be able to help you, now get going!" she said.

"Why are you doing this?" he asked.

"Because I have them too," she said. For the first time Ndugu noticed Nalcarya's hideously deformed ass. Ndugu nodded in an unspoken everlasting friendship kind of way before he ran upstairs and out the door.

"Oh yeah? Just because you have corprus doesn't mean you have the strength to fight us all!" one guard said.

"That's why...I have my army of starved Scrib!" she said as a revolving door rotated half way, revealing the hungry insect larvae. They quickly devoured the denizens of the shop as Nalcarya laughed maniacally at the ill fated bastards. Suddenly the Scrib turned on their master and tore her to shreds. She never stopped laughing up until one of the ravening creatures tore out her voice box.

Back with Ndugu, he roamed around town until happening across the Hlaalu Council House. Inside he asked how to get to Tel Fyr, and was immediately jumped for mentioning the Telvanni wizard lair. This is how he found out about the rivalries between the Great Houses. Upon being thrown out he landed at the feet of a fellow Redguard named Stargel.

"Do YOU know how to get to Tel Fyr?" Ndugu asked.

"Hmm...nope," Stargel replied. Ndugu fell over at this news, anime style. "But I think I know someone who might. Go to the South Wall Corner Club and ask Blacola about Cauis Cosades," Ndugu jumped up at this and thanked him.

"Now, where's South Wall?" he asked.

"Go across the river on the right hand side and it's between a three story and another house if you're looking at it facing south," said Stargel.

"Thank you!" Ndugu said running off. Stargel looked after Ndugu as he ran off.

"Tourists..." he said. He continued onward but suddenly he was confronted by an onslaught of hungry Scrib. He screamed and they ate him after little resistance.

Ndugu walked inside the Corner Club and located Blacola, who directed him to Cauis. "Go outside and take a right, then a left. Head down the street all the way and Cauis' house is at the end," he said. Ndugu thanked him and followed his directions to Cauis' house, where Cauis was as high as a kite on Skooma.

"So you're lookin' for Tel Fyr?" Cauis asked, "I think I might know someone who can help you. Ex-Telvanni, goes by the name of 'Fast Eddie'. He can tell you where Tel Fyr is,"

"Yes, now we're getting somewhere," Ndugu said. "And where's that?"

"Man I'm too high right now to think about shit like dat, you're killin' my buzz. Get the #$% out,"

So Ndugu did, and he eventually found Fast Eddie's house. "You're lookin' for Tel Fyr? Go to Sadrith Mora via Guild Guide of the Balmora Guild of Mages. I can't believe people in this down are so damn stupid that they didn't know that, then again they could have just been giving you a runaround," Eddie said.

"What?! Sending ME on a wild goose chase?! Oh hell naw!" Ndugu yelled enraged. He left Eddie's house, only to find Balmora in ruins. Everywhere, there were crumpled, burning buildings, half eaten bodies, and the corpses of Scribs. Ndugu spotted a bunch of wizards holding off the Scrib Menace with a magical barrier. Inside the safe haven were the remaining citizens of Balmora, huddled together, listening intently to a Breton woman in a red robe.

"Alright, we're gonna do this Ragnarok style! I'm going to open a portal to Vivec and everyone run through at once!" she said over the roar of the barrier and the debris flying through the air. She opened the portal and everybody rushed through. Ndugu walked up to her. Aside from himself, her, and those that were to defend the people remained. "What the hell's your problem?! Go through!" she yelled.

"Well, the thing is that I don't need to go to Vivec," he said.

"Does it look like I give a shit?!" she asked, "Get your ass through and ask the Guild Guide there, otherwise I'm leaving your ass behind!"

"Alright already, sheesh!" he said. He walked through and found himself in Vivec, waiting until the last ones came through.


	4. The Return of Jiub and the Ministry of T...

Chapter 4

In the Vivec Guild of Mages everyone was in a panic, talking at once about the incident in Balmora.

"The Scribs have taken over!" "They destroyed my home!" "They killed all the guards!" "They ate Stargel!" Suddenly a shotgun blast was heard over all the noise and everyone turned, startled, to see what had caused it. It was Ndugu, and he sheathed the gun behind his back as if it were a sword.

"Alright, yeah, so they destroyed your city. What're you gonna do about it, sit here and bitch about it all day?" he asked.

"But what can we do?" one person cried, "The Scrib Menace is a horrible plague set upon us by Dagoth Ur who resides in the Crater Citadel of Red Mountain! Only the Nerevarine can save us now, for without him we're all doomed!"

Ndugu walked up and bitch slapped the person who was spouting what seemed to be nonsense to him. "Now that's about enough of that. I could destroy those Scrib if I wanted, but frankly my visit here to Morrowind has been nothing but a massive pain in the ass," he paused for a moment, then added, "literally!" Everyone stole a glance at the still bleeding spot where his hemorrhoid used to be.

"Are you suggesting that you, a Redguard, could be the Nerevarine?" another person asked. This sparked a commotion. "What? A Redguard is the Nerevarine?" "He can't be the Nerevarine, he's black!" "A Redguard? Stargel, is that you?" "No, Stargel's dead, remember?" "Oh, well you can't blame me, they all look the same,"

"ALL RIGHT, SHUT THE HELL UP!" Ndugu yelled. Everyone was silenced once again. "I may not be this 'Nerevarine' you people are babbling about, but I don't believe in such nonsense anyways. I'm saying there is no curse on this land, and that I can kill an army of Scrib just as easily as any fabled war hero of times could, assuming that he existed," he explained. There was a hush for a moment. Then someone else spoke up.

"Did you here that? He doesn't believe in the Nerevarine," "Well I guess that means he doesn't believe in Lord Nerevar either," "Well Lord Nerevar was friends with Vivec and the other Tribunal Gods, perhaps he doesn't believe in them as well," "Blasphemy!" someone said as they rushed up to him.

"What?! Whoa wait, I never said-," thunk, he was knocked out cold. While he was asleep he had a dream. It was a dream about the Sixth House. Dagoth Ur and Nerevar were standing there, facing a golden alter with blood trickling down the side. There was something on the pedestal, the air was filled with the stench of blood and death, and just a hint of something else, and there were the dead, praying to the object that had been placed upon it. It was Ndugu's hemorrhoid. It was the acrid smell of ass juice he now realized was the scent he couldn't quite put his finger on before, and now Dagoth and Nerevar turned to the pedestal themselves, kneeling down upon the hemorrhoid as well. Suddenly the hemorrhoid blew up, showering everyone with the blood and ass juice, and the dead were jovial and gleeful, ecstatic that this had happened. Over his disgust and confusion, Ndugu was somehow distinctly aware that it was Dagoth and Nerevar who had caused the sacrificial hemorrhoid to burst like that, and they turned to him and smiled. Ndugu was frightened beyond words at these smiling faces, although he himself didn't know why, and he suddenly jerked out of his nightmare, covered in a cold sweat.

"Are you okay?" someone asked. Ndugu turned and saw that it was Jiub.

"You again?!" Ndugu said alarmed, "I thought you were killed on the boat!"

"What? Oh that shotgun blast..." he trailed off, "Yes, they thought that they had killed me, but in reality I was just faking it," he said. Ndugu noticed the massive hole in Jiub's stomach.

"Okay..." Ndugu said, wondering how Jiub could have possibly survived having his entire midsection blown out, "what are you doing here?"

"I snuck off the boat once they thought I was dead. It was hard, because we were already well into the Sea of Ghosts when they decided it was okay to leave me alone, so I had to swim back here. The blood attracted Slaughterfish and they tried to eat me alive, but I made it. I couldn't stop until I saw you again," he said.

"Right, I get that but why are you here, in this prison? And come to think of it, what kind of prison is this? It's got a kind of floaty feel to it,"

"That's because this is the Ministry of Truth. It's about 300 ft above water, and everyone here is here because they disobeyed the Temple somehow," Jiub explained, "For instance, from what I understand you're here because you said you didn't believe that Vivec, Almalexia, and Sotha Sil are Gods. I'm here for a similar reason. I worship a different God: you, Ndugu. Your body more specifically,"

"ALRIGHT, THAT'S JUST A LITTLE TOO MUCH INFORMATION!" Ndugu said genuinely creeped out. Suddenly Ndugu heard something. Someone had come up to their cell and was attempting to unlock it. The door was thrust open and the woman slammed it shut behind it. She turned around and Ndugu instantly recognized her.

"You're that woman I stole the purse from!" he said pointing at her.

"Yes, and I've come to get it back. If you give it to me then I'll give you this," she said holding up a scroll.

"What the hell do I need that for? Toilet paper? Have you forgotten I have virtually no ass?" Ndugu said.

"You have more than enough for me," Jiub said.

"Alright, seriously dude, if you say one more thing like that again, I'm gonna straight up #$%&in' kill you,"

"It's not toilet paper, it's a Scroll of Divine Intervention!" the woman yelled.

Ndugu was quiet for a moment, "...So?"

"So?! It'll get you out of here and take you straight to the nearest Imperial Cult Shrine! In this case it'll take you to Ebonheart," she explained.

"Seriously?! Kick ass!" Ndugu said snatching it away. He accidentally took both though, the other one intended to get the woman out as well. He used one of them and instantly vanished.

"Wait you dumb bastard! You took mine too!" she yelled in desperation and vain, as he'd already left. She hung her head low when there was no response and turned her attention to Jiub. Right when their eyes met it was love at first sight. They ran to each other in slow motion and Jiub tripped and fell. The shock of the fall caused Jiub's stomach hole to commence bleeding again, and he died shortly thereafter, leaving the innocent woman all alone in the cell.


	5. Azura at Sadrith Mora

Chapter 5

(Whoosh, special effects and whatnot) Ndugu arrived in Wolverine Hall, Sadrith Mora. Wait...Sadrith Mora? I thought he was supposed to go to Ebonheart. Yes well...we all know how glitchy this game can be sometimes, so he loaded up at completely the wrong place. Fortunately for him he doesn't have to go too far to get to Tel Fyr. Okay so I did it on purpose to save time, at least I didn't teleport him straight there, at least it's actually an Imperial Shrine. Anyways, so Ndugu arrives at Wolverine Hall.

"Woah, look at all the Shrooms!" Ndugu exclaimed. "I'll bet that Cauis Cosades guy would be right at home here,"

"That's what I thought too but can you believe they're just Shitake Shrooms?" Cauis said from nearby.

"Holy crap, when did you get here?"

"Huh? Oh, well...bad Intervention Scroll," he said. Suddenly about fifty people appeared in front of Ndugu.

"WTF?! I was supposed to go to Fort Buckmoth!" one person screamed in agony. Since they all arrived at the same time their bodies all fused together.

"DEAR LORD, KILL IT!" Ndugu screamed at the sight of the fifty-in-one person people thing. Guards instantly jumped it, assuming it was a corprus victim, and dismembered it right in front of Ndugu. The horrifying sight of arms, legs, and heads being lobbed off of a still living, breathing thing caused Ndugu to faint. This is where he had another one of those crazy ass Sixth House dreams.

Nerevar was hog tied and gagged, naked. Dagoth was standing over him with a turkey baster in hand. Ndugu stared in horror as Dagoth poured the hot gravy all over Nerevar's body. Nerevar let out a muffled cry of pain and pleasure, and Dagoth spoke to his victim.

"Remember when we used to do this all night long?" he asked. Ndugu covered his eyes.

"God, why do I have do see this?" Ndugu asked himself. Dagoth heard this and whipped around.

"YOU, WHY ARE YOU HERE AGAIN?! Why do you invade all of my favorite fantasies of Nerevar and myself? Why don't you just leave me the hell alone?!" he yelled at Ndugu.

"WHAT?! Hey, I didn't ask to be transported here in the dream world to see you living out your insane dreams! Twice!" he added. "And I have the distinct feeling that you're inadvertently transmitting these...images...all over the island!"

"Really...?" he asked interestedly. "Do...do they like what they see?" he asked. He liked his finger and placed it on his ass and made a sizzling sound.

"That's it!" Ndugu yelled and jumped Dagoth. He started beating him down as we revert to the real world, where he's sleep fighting. Actually he's lying on the ground mumbling incoherently and having what appears to be a slow seizure. A crowd had long since gathered around him.

"Is he possessed?" one person asked.

"I think he's just drunk," another said.

"A drunk on the street? Intoxication on public roadways? That's gotta be illegal!" a guard said. He ran over and attempted to subdue the already unconscious Ndugu, who leapt up to his feet and started fighting the guard...still asleep. And he was winning! Finally the other guards jumped in.

"Drunks on the street unite!" Cauis and a bunch of other drunks said in unison. They all got together and it was a melee. Drunks were punching guards and vise versa. One drunk shot his fist out and hit a guard square in the jaw. All of the action stopped. The guard simply looked at him. "You son of a bitch," he growled. This struck fear in the drunk's eyes and the guard brought his fist across his face in slow motion. As the punch connected with the drunk's face his teeth exploded out of his mouth. In the middle of the fight Ndugu woke up.

"What the hell's going on?" he wondered. He got some popcorn and a lounge chair and watched the fight for a few minutes and checked his watch, then wandered off, wondering what a watch was since they hadn't been invented yet, nor had popcorn or lounge chairs for that matter. Anywho, so Ndugu wandered around town until he ended up at a corner club.

"Dirty Muriel's?" he asked aloud. He stepped inside. He walked upstairs and up to the counter. He was about to say something when he noticed a Bosmer standing a few feet away, looking a lot like Fargoth.

"I am Celegorn," he said in an unimaginably deep voice.

Ndugu stared at him, "I'll just...take your word for it," he said sidestepping away, where he ended up back at the counter.

"Howdy there traveler. Haven't seen you around these parts. I'm Muriel Sette. What can I do ya' for?" she said.

"Uh...I need to know how to get to Tel Fyr," he said.

Everyone stopped and looked at Ndugu. "We do not speak of The Tower," Muriel hissed.

"Why, what's the problem?" he asked.

"Last time someone went there...well, let's just say he convinced that he's a Nord named Celegorn. His real name is Fargoth," she said. Ndugu looked back at Fargoth, who was now wielding a battle axe and picking a fight with an Imperial. The Imperial shook his head in disdain and bitch slapped Fargoth.

"So this wizard has pretty powerful spells huh?" he asked, "Well that's okay because I need one to cure this damn corprus," he said indicating the trail of blood behind him.

"Hmm, that is pretty bad..."she said.

"Damn straight! And he's the reason that all this is happening in the first place!" he yelled. He ran over and tackled Fargoth, beating the shit out of him. Finally he got up. "There, that makes me feel a little better..."

"Ouch, what did I do?" Fargoth asked in his usual wussy voice.

"Fargoth, you're back!" a random Fargoth fan squealed in delight. She ran over and began having sex with him.

"Don't mind him, he has a fan club," Muriel said. "But you've cured Fargoth! It is said...only the Nerevarine can do such a thing," she said. Ndugu flinched as he reminisced about the last time someone mentioned the Nerevarine Prophecies.

"Uh, yes, of course. I'm the Nerevarine so it should come as no surprise that...uh..." he stopped as he noticed everyone staring at him, anger in their eyes.

"He claims to be the Nerevarine, blasphemy!" one person screamed. They all lunged towards him but suddenly a ninja in Dark Brotherhood armor appeared in front of all of them. The ninja looked back at Ndugu, strands of golden blonde hair flowing in front of devilishly red eyes. Behind the partial face cover the ninja spoke to him.

"Ndugu...you are the Nerevarine..." it was a female voice. She turned back around to the people that were attempting to knock Ndugu out.

"Wha...what is this animosity?!" one cried out. They were all unable to move as they were paralyzed due to the ninja's fighting spirit. The ninja smirked under her veil and vanished, dismembering all of them Shinobi-style. Well, there was a blur, then she reappeared in front of Ndugu. She turned to him and they stared at one another for a moment. A few seconds passed and suddenly the one's she had sliced finally exploded into an eruption of blood, which rained down on Ndugu and the ninja. Ndugu tried to shield himself from it.

"Man, so that's what it feels like..." he said brushing himself off.

"Yes, but it wasn't from their asses," said the Dunmer ninja.

"You...how do you know about that? Who are you?" Ndugu asked.

"I am Azura," she said removing her mask. She still had the traditional blue gray skin and red eyes, but she had blonde hair like an Imperial, wavy and four inches past her shoulders. Her beauty was suitable of her Goddess status.

"I see...what do you want with me?" he asked.

"I will be your patron," she said. "You are the Nerevarine, whether you like it or not. The first thing you must do is cure your corprus disease. I know you've been searching for Tel Fyr, and every time it seems as though you are getting close, something completely insane happens. You were knocked out on that boat, wiping out all memory prior to waking up. I would vouch that all of this is the product of Sheogorath, the Prince of Madness. This wouldn't be the first time he's interfered with my business," she said.

"Sheogorath..." Ndugu said, "Is he the reason everyone is turning gay on me?"

"Partly, he and the other Corners are trying to influence people," she said.

"But...they're Gods..." he said.

"Yes well...they get bored easily. Now then, I would tell you how to get to Tel Fyr, but I assume it's easier just to teleport you there. Surely nothing bad can come of it,"

"Please don't say that, the opposite is bound to come true," Ndugu cringed.

"Oh please, we Goddesses are not affected by the mortal aspect of 'luck' or 'Murphy's Law' or 'irony', you know, your usual misfortunes and whatnot," Azura said. She raised her hands with her palms facing towards Ndugu. He closed his eyes in anticipation and fear for what would surely end up being a disaster, simply because Azura was so confident that it wouldn't be. Suddenly he was somewhere else altogether. On the coast of an archipelago, the little islands dotting every direction. The scent of the ocean wafted gently up to his nostrils and he inhaled the perfume. He sighed in pleasure and turned to face a large wizard tower.

"Well...so far so good," he said as he reached for the doorknob. He opened it and went inside the wizard's lair.


	6. Divayth Fyr and the Chocolate Factory

Chapter 6

"Tel Fyr…" Ndugu said to himself as he wandered down empty corridors. He continued on into The Hall of Fyr and looked around in confusion. Clearly these are his quarters, there was a bed, alchemical ingredients, a smallish library decorated with skulls as book ends and a near full set of Limeware (which Ndugu pocketed, don't ask how he did this because the inventory system of Morrowind is as inexplicable as it is complex, it is assumed that some sort of rip in the fabric of space-time is involved. That or Velcro, but since one had yet to be understood and the other yet to be invented, we just say to hell with it all and say that Ndugu has extremely deep pockets in which to put everything, including a roughly 2' by 3' Limware Platter, a largish Limeware Flask, and two medium sized Limeware cups, not to mention an seemingly infinite amount of gold that never seems to weigh anything whatsoever)

He wandered a bit more and faintly heard humming. Curiously enough it seemed to come from above him, rather than any other perfectly rational direction (though the Telvanni aren't particularly known for their rationality cough Therana! cough), so he decided to jack a Standard Potion of Rising Force from the lot of alchemical ingredients mentioned earlier. Upon drinking it, he suddenly felt…odd. He shrugged after it's apparent lack of effect and continued to search the room for another means of getting up the shaft that led to the incessant humming. Suddenly Charlie from Willy Wonka and the Chocolate Factory burst randomly into the room, snatched up one of the Rising Force Potions, and started chattering (rather insanely, it must be admitted) about how he was a bird, plane, etc (birds apparently don't exist in Morrowind, only Cliff Racers, and no one's ever heard of a "plane" before, so you could understand his considerable amount of shock and confusion upon a random, strangely dressed white kid doing this, as well as what he was about to do next). The insanity was further demonstrated itself when he began doing somersaults and back flips in mid air for no apparent reason. Ndugu was about to demand knowledge as to exactly what the fuck he was doing up there, and what drugs he was taking because he wanted some, when he suddenly found himself doing roughly the same exact thing, minus the acrobatics and claims to be things that, in Morrowind, don't exist. Charlie continued his inane ramblings as Ndugu watched, half amused, half irritated, until finally he took notice of a large fan that they were slowly, yet inexorably ascending to.

"WE'RE GOING TOO HIGH!" screeched Charlie. "HELP, HELP, WE'RE GONNA DIE!"

"STOP FUCKING SCREECHING, WE'RE THE ONLY ONE'S HERE!" Ndugu yelled back, now half irritated, half fearing for his life. The blades of the enormous fan whirred with a thump-a-thump noise about them, then paused, deciding they would make a different sound altogether, then decided they rather liked the first sound they were making in the first place and went back to that, then started once again.

Suddenly, Ndugu noticed a second level between the floor and the blades of the fan and decided that curing his disease, fulfilling a prophecy, and saving the world outweighed being sliced to ribbons by a seemingly misplaced fan that couldn't decide what sound it wanted to make, and floated into the roof of the second floor. Charlie wasn't quite as fortunate (nor intelligent enough to make the obvious choice), and thus commenced experiencing his utterly horrific, terrible demise. The thump-a-thump of the fan was replaced with a sickening sound that closely resembled the sound of a pre-adolescent actor from the 1970's being sliced to ribbons by a large fan. Ndugu was still pressed against the ceiling of the second floor as blood and less identifiable fleshy remnants rained down the shaft, and a Dunmer in wicked black and red armor walked up to the ledge and peered down at the red puddle that was Charlie. With a satisfied grunt he turned and went about his business.

"Uh, a little help here?" Ndugu suggested, plastered to the wall as he was. With a vaguely uninterested glance the Dunmer snapped his fingers, which must have cast a 100 dispel spell which cancelled his potion, and thus he hit the ground rather hard. He got up and joined the armor clad Dunmer, who was studying various books as though he seriously expected them to read themselves for him which, curiously enough, they didn't. This was much to Ndugu's disappointment, because he couldn't read the books, it being in a strange, unfamiliar alphabet that would soon become relevant, but isn't now so we needn't mention it presently.

"Um…are you the wizard that inhabits this tower?" Ndugu asked.

"I am," he said, "Divayth Fyr, the only one who lives here. Aside from the corprus beasts, if you call that a life. Also, there is Vistha-Kai, the Argonian guard for my Corprusarium. Sometimes I hear screams emitting from the Onix Hall behind a big locked door, but I find it best not to ask questions and have Kai slide some food under the door every hundred years or so. Well, at least I assume he does, I haven't been down there in about a thousand years,"

"Don't you need to eat too?" Ndugu asked.

"Oh dear, I'm afraid you bring up quite a good point," the wizard replied, and presently shrank into nothingness. Ndugu let a considerable "huh?" of alarm before the wizard rematerialized, laughing.

"You fool, do you really think a four thousand year old wizard needs to eat? I haven't had anything to eat in over 19 centuries!" Divayth said.

Ndugu considered this for a moment before noticing the half eaten sandwich stuffed in between the plating of his cuirass and greaves, but decided to let it go and half Divayth live under the (false) impression that he needn't consume tasty scrib jelly spread over bread, lightly toasted by a firebite spell. Ndugu wondered why anyone would make such an outrageous claim to begin with, but found that it had absolutely nothing to do with anything of any particular level of relevance. Instead, he thought about Charlie. He thought about him so much that it provoked him to make a bit of an inquiry.

"Why'd that kid get hacked up?" he asked.

"Because," he said simply, "he keeps taking my Rising Force Potions and asks me where I've hidden all of the chocolate, and why the 'Umpa Lumpas' in the Coprusarium had tried to dismember him. After a while I decided that the best course of action would be to build a massive fan and chop him up into little tiny pieces, then feed his remains to the corprus victims. Unfortunately, it took a bit of time from my current project,"

"Which is?"

"Trying to make these books read themselves," he replied. He stared for a little longer.

"Why didn't you just ask him to leave?" Ndugu asked.

"Eh? Vistha-Kai? I happen to admire the considerable length of his peni-"

"WOAH! No, I'm talking about the kid," Ndugu said. Divayth shrugged in response.

"If you do me a favor, I can rid you of that corprus," he said. Ndugu was about to ask him how he'd known that, but then suddenly realized that the hemorrhoid had grown back, for him being so half irritated.

"What do you want?" Ndugu asked.

"Go into the Corprusarium and find Yagrum Bagharn. Ask him about that thing he was supposed to get me a few hundred years ago. To be perfectly honest with you, I can't even remember what it was, but as I said, I don't get out much, and needless to say, I don't get many visitors who aren't either drooling, corpus infected idiots, or smallish pre-adolescent boys accusing me of hoarding chocolate, of which I've admittedly had one of the latter," Divayth said.

Ndugu had already left a quarter of the way through the wizard's rambling, but unfortunately missed the bit about what exactly he was supposed to get, and from whom. He just assumed wandering around aimlessly in an eccentric, four thousand year old wizard's lair sounded like a fun thing to do, as well as perfectly safe, but he was staggeringly wrong on both accounts, as we will discover later.


	7. Cannibalistic Tendancies

Chapter 7

(Four and a half months later...) And so down into the Corprusarium he went, until he came across Vistha Kai. Where as Ndugu couldn't really look him in the eye, he was still pleasant to talk to, but the Redguard's thoughts kept wandering back to what Fyr said about this former Argonian sex slave.

"Urm, hey...you must be Vistha Kai..." Ndugu said.

"Are you here to plunder the dungeon? That's fine, only-" Kai began, but was cut off.

"-Wait, why would I be here for THAT reason? Just 'cause I'm black doesn't mean I'm gonna-" Ndugu started, heatedly.

"No, no," Kai said patiently, as though he'd dealt with Redguards before, "this is somewhat of a sport for Lord Fyr, he lets all manner of thieves and apparently rapists in his tower so they can steal priceless artifacts, as well as his daughter's virginity," he said.

"...What? Daughters? You mean those desperately horny women that jumped me and drained me of practically all of my bodily fluids below my waist?" Ndugu asked.

"Ah, the special treatment, you must be a patient. You're remarkably sane for one with the divine disease. How did you contract it?" Kai asked, curiously.

"Urm, well I sort of got really angry at this Altmer, Arrille or whats-his-name, for trying to buy this ring I sto-" he caught himself in mid-word and continued "...recieved as payment for doing a quest, for only 10 gold!"

"And it just sort of...spawned it's self in your rectum?" Kai asked.

"Well...yeah...seems strange, no?"

"Indeed," Kai agreed. There was an awkward silence as they thought about this.

"Well then, in you go," Kai said as he grabbed Ndugu and flung him in through the wooden gate.

"What the fu-!" SLAM, and the gate was sealed. Ndugu got up and brushed himself off, and trudged forward. There was a thick layer of white slim coating the entire floor, and Ndugu discovered, to his own horror, that it was indeed human flesh decayed into a fine paste. Eyeballs, teeth, bones, hair, and other bodyparts or pieces of tissue were scattered amongst the rot, and it smelled quite...like white chocolate? Ndugu reached down and grabbed a fistful of the matter and shoved it in his mouth on a whim, which wouldn't have appeared as though a very good idea to the average person, but...at least nothing horrible came of it, unless you count the song and dance number he felt obligated to perform upon discovering that the fermented organs and flesh WAS white chocolate.

"I never thought that flesh could taste, so very good when made into paste  
But now I see that rot can be so very good for me  
'Cause skin will turn into candy  
(La la la lala la la la)  
Decaying flesh will taste the best when made from whitey

It's cho-co-late that tastes the best when made from MEEEEEEEEEEEEE!  
(La la la lala la la la la la lala laaaaaa laaaaaa laaaaaaaaaaaaa!)"

As he sang he would fling himself into the corpsey goo and make flesh angels, took huge bites off of the corprus beasts, and as the last "la"s were sang (?) he ran and jumped, landing on his knees with his arms outstretched and skidding through the decayed matter to the feet of another of Fyr's daughters and a fat cyborg on a weird spider machine. Upon viewing this Ndugu-

"-AAAAAAAAAAHHHHHHHHHHHH!" screamed in horror and ran, still screaming, out of the dungeon. Before he could get so far as to escape, however, the Fyr daughter threw a Dwarven War Axe as though it were a tomahawk and pinned Ndugu against the wall with it's blade. She went up to him, placed her foot on his back, and yanked the axe out of him. This was about when blood started gushing out of a large wound on Ndugu's back.

"HOLY SHIT, I thought I'd been doing rather well with throwing these things!" she cried.

"AAAARRRRGGGGHHHH!" Ndugu yelled in agony and collapsed. He awoke several hours later to the hideously bloated face of a dwemer.

"You'd better get these to Lord Fyr, he probably never expected you to take a war axe in the back, unless you'd like to look at the milk and dark chocolate halls, that is," said Yargrum as he offered a pair of montrously large Dwemer Boots of Flying.

"AAAAAAAAAAHHHHHHHHHHHH!" Ndugu screamed. Then he stopped and thought. "Wait, what's that made from?"

"Urm...well, you," Yargrum admitted sheepishly.

"AAAAAAAAAAHHHHHHHHHHHH!" Ndugu screamed again as he took the boots and ran out of the Corprusarium.

Divayth Fyr was in the Hall of Fyr, messing with his alchemical set (mixing elven flesh to see what sort of chocolate THAT made) when he heard screams getting lounder and lounder.

"aaaaaaaaaaaaaaaAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH!" Ndugu finished as he stopped a couple feet from Divayth. "I got yer boots!" he said pleasantly and offered them to him.

"Ah, thank you. What did you think of my Corprusarium?" he asked.

"Delicious!" Ndugu said, rubbing his belly in a satisfied manner.

"WHAT!" Divayth asked, horrified.

"Now then, about that cure," Ndugu said.

"Er...yes, well, I'm afraid it isn't quite perfected, but I'm sure that if you do explode that the world won't mourn the lose of a cannibalistic freak like you, much less one who is a Redguard," Fyr said, and gave him the potion. Ndugu drank it and the magic began it's work inside of him...


	8. Naming the Deadric Creasant Blade

Chapter 8

As he felt the liquid flowing down his throat, he also felt a very bizzare sensation that very closely resembled nothing Ndugu had ever felt before.

"AMAZING, IT REALLY WORKED!" Divayth said ecstatically. "You're almost completely cured of Corprus!"

"Almost?" Ndugu asked incredulously.

"Well that's the idea, to rid you of all your physical symptoms, the bad ones at least," Fyr explained.

"And the good ones?" Ndugu asked.

"Well, you're immortal now, and you can never get sick again. Only..." he trailed off.

"What?"

"Well, I didn't want to waste a good sample of the cure on you because, well, you're black, and simply not worth it, but it did work, and that's all that really matters, right?" he said hopefully.

Ndugu was somewhat taken aback by this news. Divayth Fyr, a four thousand year old Dunmer wizard, had openly expressed his racial views against Redguards. But not only that, he had given Ndugu a Spoiled Cure Corprus Disease Potion. "So what are the draw backs to drinking a potion that could be hundreds of years old?" he asked cautiously.

"Urm, well, I dunno," Divayth admitted sheepishly. Suddenly, Ndugu began to do something very strange. He had suddenly begun to cry out in agony. His skin was turning pale, and bumps were popping up all over his body. His face stretched out and his mouth formed a beak. His arms turned into spindley little twigs with tiny claws on the ends, and the flesh of his arms connected with that of his waist, forming wings. His legs split into two, the front ones shrinking up into little bird feet, and the back ones becoming a long, split tail. His chest also shrank, some would say he became bird-chested. In fact, he had, because from the aforementioned bumps came hundreds of feathers. Ndugu had seemingly transformed into a cliffracer.

"Oh, that's right, I used the racer plumes from one of the creatures! Mean case of blight, that one had," Fyr said, reveling in old memories. "Now what else was in that potion? Scuttle...marshmerrow, lots of muck, finely ground bonemeal and Coda flower petals, and ectoplasm," the thought obviously hadn't occured to Divayth that the blight disease in the origional cliffracer had somehow survived, and was still infused with it's DNA, but how could he know that? Nobody knew what that was anyways. So, as a cliffracer in general, especially a blighted one, such as Ndugu had magically transformed, he was bound and determined to attack anything that looked remotely bipedal, so while Divayth was distracted, Ndugu gouged out his eyes.

"AAAAAIIIIIIIEEEEEE!" Divayth screamed, clutching his empty eye sockets. Having your eyes torn out can be quite painful, and having them torn out for no apparent reason can add insult to injury. Most people don't take too kindly to those who recklessly maim innocent people, and so it was quite easy to see why being permanently disfigured sort of got under Divayth Fyr's skin. Just a little bit...You see, you don't have to be able to see in order to cast spells, so he went ahead and summoned a Storm Atronach, who hurled a huge lightning bolt at Ndugu. Somehow, miraculously, and for the sake of not killing the main character and ruining a perfectly good story, it missed completely. This did not, however, discourage the Atronach from trying again. Fortunately, and by an equally unbelievable stroke of luck, it missed yet again. The Atronach figured that the third time was the charm, and Ndugu was inclined to agree, so he flew out of the room with all the chemicals. Unfortunately, this didn't prove to do much of anything because there were two doors between Ndugu and freedom, and it's somewhat difficult to open doors, especially perfectly round, gold, iron, and/or wooden doors with little claws. It was somewhat amusing to watch though, but the effect was completely lost on Divayth, who couldn't appretiate this quite as much seeing as how his eyes had been ruthlessly torn out. He meerly heard lots of skritching sounds that gave him a general idea of where Ndugu was, so he charged him with (brace yourself) a Deadric Dagger. As it happened, it was about this time that the Atronach hurled his last, most powerful lightning bolt, that Divayth sort of jumped in it's path by running at Ndugu. Just as Divayth raised his dagger to kill Ndugu, the bolt struck it and surged through his body. The fact that he was wearing what could have been almost 400 lbs of metal armor didn't really help him any. In fact, it only served to amplify the electric current that was ravaging through his 4,000 year old body. Of course, being hit by a little lightning bolt wasn't going to stop him, but falling down and impaling himself in the throat with his own dagger because he was stunned by said lightning would, and that's exactly what happened. Well, actually, THAT'S not what killed him, but it did weaken him considerably. By this time, the Atronach was out of magicka, and couldn't reach Ndugu because Divayth was there on the floor, you know how it is when an NPC goes down, so he was pretty much just growling and walking around in little circles in a completely futile manner. Somewhere, deep in the darkness that was the mind of the cliffracer, was Ndugu. And somewhere in there was a logical thought that said that if Divayth was dead, the Atronach would return to oblivion. With this somewhere in mind, Ndugu comensed to finish off Divayth by pulling out the dagger with his tail, thus completely opening the wound and making him strangle to death on his own blood (GRUESOME!). Apparently the sun had risen outside, and thus Ndugu's Wereracer affliction wore off for the moment, and because the summoner had died, the Atronach returned to Oblivion.

"HOLY SHIT!" he exclaimed upon seeing Divayth's corpse in a pool of blood. The Deadric Dagger was stuck between his toes, and he pulled it out. He looked around to make sure no one was looking and took all of Divayth's Deadric armor for himself, removing the half-eaten sandwich from Chapter 6. Inside one of the boots, was a key. Ndugu tried it on some of the chests, and one opened. Inside, there were about 25 Dwemer Coins, A wicked looking mace, and a necklace that looked as though it were made with exotic ebony for the chain. On it, was a blue and red amulet. Ndugu stuffed the coins...somewhere (pressumably where he'd put the Limeware), and put on the necklace. Upon doing so, Ndugu was suprised to see that he'd teleported to a very dark and scary place, where a very dark and scary person was running full speed at him, trying to gut him with a very dark and scary weapon. Ndugu screamed and blocked the first blow with his mace, then parried, smashing the person's face. The dark and scary person growled, and shoved his weapon into Ndugu, who flinched, bracing for impact and knowing full well that this wouldn't help him in any concievable way. Ndugu eventually figured out that he wasn't actually hurt, but that the weapon he'd ALMOST been stabbed with was curved, and that he was inside of this semicircle. Before Ndugu could wonder why he was inside of the weapon's semicircle, the dark and scary person slashed to the right, cutting Ndugu clean in half. Well, that was the plan at least. See, if that were to ACTUALLY happen, the slash would've started from the left to the right, but since Ndugu was FACING the dark and scary person, it was indeed HIS right that it started on. Consequently, that happens to be the side which has Ndugu's fighting arm, and thus the blade merely hit his mace, VERY hard and so he just sort of poked himself with it.

"Ow!" Ndugu said. The dark and scary person was so surprised that he hadn't sliced Ndugu in half (how would he have gotten through the armor?) that he dropped his guard entirely. It was when he went to pick it back up that Ndugu brought his mace down on the back of the dark and scary person's head with completely unneccessary force. As it were, the mace Ndugu was using just so happened to be Scourge, which had a reputation for capturing the souls of defeated Daedra. By a staggering coincidence, the dark and scary person JUST SO HAPPENED to BE one, and thus, rather than his spirit flying back to Oblivion, it flew in completely the wrong direction, straight into Ndugu's mace.

As the Daedra fell to the ground, he turned to dust. This struck Ndugu as an extremely odd thing for him to do, because when MOST people die, they turn into fresh corpses...or meals (and sometimes chocolate, apparently)...Of course, if Ndugu had any idea what a Daedra was, it would have made this much easier to cope with, but instead Ndugu just stared, bewildered, at the pile of ashes, and the only thing that remained aside from that, the very dark and scary weapon. Ndugu had no idea what to make of it.

"What shall I call you...?" he wondered as he gazed at it, awed. He looked around for clues. One of the first things he noticed was the pile of ashes, and how it was dead.

"Dead" he began, and suddenly some guy named Rick walked by.

Hi, I'm Rick!" he said.

"Rick..." Ndugu continued, unphased by the fact that some completely random person had wandered into a sealed cavern for the sake of convieniently naming his new weapon. The next thing Ndugu thought of was the crease in Rick's pants.

"Crease..." and an ant bit him in the arm.

"Ant..." he continued, snuffing the ant out of existence with his mace, breaking his arm in the process, and was suddenly at a loss. For no adequently explained reason, Wesley Snipes came through, dressed in a trench coat, weilding a sword, and dragging Rick's corpse.

"My name's Blade, and this guy," he said wriggling Rick's corpse slightly, "was obviously some kinda freak demon thingy that could somehow wander into sealed caverns. Understandably, I had to kill him," and he walked away.

"Blade!" Ndugu finished, "Deadric Creasant Blade! Oh, thank you Wesley Snipes!" and was promptly teleported back to The Hall of Fyr.


	9. Return of the Scrib Menace

Chapter 9

Sometime much later in real life but only a couple of milliseconds in Ndugu's time, he found himself standing in the Hall of Fyr. Now is there anything more dangerous than a Redguard with full Deadric armor, the fabled Deadric Creasant Blade, and a mean case of Cliffanthropy (kinda like Lycanthropy, except he turns into a cliffracer instead of a werewolf)? Well, maybe if he DID have Lycanthropy or perhaps vampirism (or perhaps both) he'd be a helluva lot more dangerous, so there are most certainly plenty of more dangerous things than Ndugu. For example, those scrib from chapter 3. Thought I forgot about those, did you? Well let's go ahead and go back to that little bit of the story so everything can come full circle.

The scrib had made quite a reputation for themselves, devouring entire cities and growing exponentionally in numbers, thus being infinitly more dangerous than Ndugu. Was there nothing that could stop the scrib menace? What was Vivec up to this whole time he could have been smiting the cute little bastards with his steadily decreasingly impressive powers? That's exactly what High Fane Arch Canon Saryoni was about to ask.

"Vivec?" Saryoni knocked on the door of Vivec's Palace. The door slowly swung open and the Arch Canon went inside. One the stand that had somehow earned the title "Library of Vivec" was a couple of documents, but the one that caught Saryoni's eye had this written on it, "Dear Vvardenfel, Out to lunch, back whenever. (heart) Vivec," There was also a lipstick kiss mark on it. Saryoni dropped the note in dispare and fell to his knees, "Is there no man that can stop this Scrib Menace! YEEEAAAAARRRRGGGGGHHHHH!" he screamed and ran out of the palace.

Meanwhile the scrib had reached the ancient ruins of Bal Ur to free their almighty Queen from the depths beneath the statue of Molag Bal. The Queen had preceeded even the great Deadra and Aneadra that had crafted the world, she was the first failed creation of Nirn, the God who later went on to create the whole of the Universe, and to ensure that Queen would never affect neither this plane or that of the Deadra, (s)he sealed it away, deep under the earth. Not deep enough apparently, because after the scrib ate the statue and started eating through the concrete they had only to penetrate the sea of lava and dig another 500 meters below that, while still keeping the lava at bay, into a massive cave structure that housed untold horrors to guard the outside world from Queen by ANY MEANS NECCESSARY. Well, that's more than enough defense if you ask me, but unfortunately no one bothered to ask the scrib, so they went ahead and did it anyways. Their thick hides shielded them from the lava and they built a huge living wall to protect the insurtion team from drowning while they penetrated into the caverns below. Once inside they simply ate their way through whatever defenses threw themselves at them and, despite complete darkness and an almost infinite number of possible wrong turns, found their way almost immediately to the Queen using their ecolocation. When they reached Queen she was petrified, not as in scared but literally turned to stone, so you could only imagine what a hell of a time the scrib had hauling her half ton form all the way out of Bal Ur and traveling to the neighboring town Suran to lay seige to it and stop by the House of Earthly Delights. They needed to formulate a plan on how to reanimate their Queen, and what better person to ask than the wisest of all men and mer, Vivec! And so they had a plan, all that needed to be done was to travel to his city, a stone's throw away from Suran, but little did they know what would be lying in wait for them at the ancient ruin and convenient midway geographical point between Suran and Vivec, Ald Sotha.

In Tel Fyr Azura appeared to Ndugu once more to explain the situation.

"Ndugu, do you remember the Scrib Menace from Chapter 3?" she asked him.

"What? Chapter 3?" Ndugu said confused.

"Balmora," she explained.

"Oh yeah, those little bugs?" he asked.

"Yes! They've gotten their Queen back. You've got to stop them before they sack Vivec city! If they find out how to revive the Queen the Universe will be plunged into dispair!" she pleaded.

"Well why's it gotta be me?" Ndugu wondered.

"Because there aren't enough black heros" Azura said. Ndugu didn't seem very inspired, so she went on, "Besides, the scrib won't be expecting a black man to try and stop them! Most of the Redguards have taken advantage of the situation and are robbing every place they can. If you go you'll catch them completely off guard and that's the only chance you'll have at destroying Queen!"

"...What in the hell's up with that logic! Wouldn't it be the Khajiit and Bosmer doing all the robbery?" Ndugu challenged.

"No, no, the Khajiit are all plundering the moon sugar plantations and the Bosmer are all cannibals and basically picking up all the scraps the scrib leave in each town. Only you can stop the scrib!" she retorted.

"ALRIGHT ALREADY, cut it out! 'Only you can stop the scrib!'" he mocked, "We GET it, you're too damn lazy to do you're own work and everyone else is too scared or important so you want me to do it. 'Ooh, better not let a white guy or elf do it, they're not as expendable as this here negro', well FUCK YOU,"

"You know, I am the Goddess of the Night, and when it gets dark you turn into a rabid cliffracer," she said.

"What's your point...?" Ndugu asked, intrigued.

"Well, how's this deal, you do me this small favor and I'll keep it day until you finish the task, in which case I'll reward you with the cure," she said.

Ndugu hung his head in defeat, knowing this was probably the only way he could possibly return to normal and agreed. "Excellent!" Azura said clapping her hands together, "But just so you'll get there quickly I'll make it night so you can fly there, plus it'll be a good way to remind you of why you should be glad you're accepting this offer," The two walked outside and with a gesture it was night and Ndugu transformed into a cliffracer, soaring off into the darkness towards Vivec.


	10. Scrib on the Warpath

Chapter 10

At the ruins of Ald Sotha, an incredible battle had commenced. It was the scrib versus the combined forces of the Ordinators, the Bouyant Armingers, the Imperial Legion, and House Redoran (Telvanni and Hlaalu weren't much for fighting, more concerned with money and their own internal politics than the fate of the Universe). Everywhere there were severed limbs and heads, squished scrib, there was even the occassional trampled merchant who had been killed trying to collect scrib jelly and jerky. No one thought it too strange that the sun had somehow mysteriously set at two o'clock in the afternoon, they simply cast a lot of light and night eye spells. The scrib didn't notice at all because they had no eyes. Divayth Fyr noticed nothing as well, but that was because he was dead. No one had actually tested the limitations of the games processing power, but were nontheless surprised that it could manage thousands of soldiers and possibly millions of ravaging scrib, but the battle music skipped some and the animation was a little jerky, which led some people to accidently stab each other in the face sometimes.

It seemed as though no matter how many scrib were slaughtered, there was no end to them. They kept pouring over the horizon or marching up from the sea. Poison spells worked fairly well, as it happened. Consequently the wind would end up carrying it to a lot of other people and killing them as well, but at least the poison tipped arrows would be less deadly in that respect. Then again, you could only kill one at a time like that and they were very small and hard to hit anyways so you were better off just using regular arrows, darts, or bolts. Some people weren't happy with just that though, as there were some guys running around with warhammers, batting them out of the air with wide swinging archs and actually breaking the ground some when they'd bring it down on them with all their might. Showoffs...served them right whenever they got their hands full and were eventually overrun, devoured alive and screaming. They'd get swarmed over, scribs covering their whole body and leaving nothing but stripped skeletons and weapons behind when the scribs finally got off them. For some reason, the skeleton archers and warriors, though incredibly underpowered compared to your average human, seemed to be doing the best, probably because the scrib couldn't eat them. Atronachs would probably have sufficed, but as I said these were no Telvanni wizards, and the best any Imperial Battlemage could do was a Daedroth, which got served up as alligator soup.

What made matters even worse was when REAL Deadra came up to see what all the commotion was about, only to discover a bunch of humans and elves fighting little insects and using their brothers for their own twisted desire. Always one to root for the underdog, the Deadra joined with the scrib in annhialating everything. This wasn't to say that the scrib felt the same way, a meal was a meal, but they'd usually stop whenever a Dremora or Atronach would turn to salt or ash. Needless to say, the fact that real Deadra were now fighting only served to confuse the humans and elves, so eventually they either stopped summoning their own or continue killing every Deadra they saw like they'd been doing since before any real ones had even shown up. The battle could have gone either way until everyone expended their magicka and couldn't cast anymore night eye or light spells, which was when pretty much everyone except the few Khajiit that were fighting died. Of course, the Khajiit couldn't very well fight off the hundreds of thousands of remaining scrib by their lonesome, so they just ran away, but then realized that they were on an island surrounded by water, which they hate, and the scrib had eaten their boats, which was how they'd gotten their in the first place. Some them ran inside of the ruin, where the Deadra had also filed into, and were killed, and the last five or so huddled together on the waters edge, hoping against all hope that scribs didn't eat pussy. When all was done and over with, the scrib took their Queen and carried her off into the persistenly long night towards Vivec.

Meanwhile Ndugu was still on his way over there himself, but was constently interrupted by his instinct to annoy the piss out of everyone who wandered within a mile of him. Somehow he'd gotten lucky and avoided getting himself killed, weak as cliffracers are it wouldn't take much, but he eventually made it to Vivec about 14 hours after he left Tel Fyr, what would normally have taken about 20 minutes, tops. As he approached the city he saw that most of it had been destroyed, all of the unsuspecting townsfolk eaten from their beds. You'd think they'd wake up when their door was broken down, or by the sound of screaming people and burning buildings, or perhaps that they shouldn't have been sleeping at all because it had been night for well over 12 hours by now and that's plenty of sleep for anyone, but the scrib took no prisoners. They'd just finished with the temple compound and were on their way up the steps to Vivec's Palace when a cliffracer landed neatly in front of them. At that same time the sun rose and the cliffracer transformed into Ndugu. The scrib swarm stopped in unison and Ndugu looked down and smiled darkly at them, his Deadric armor gleaming dully in the morning sun, as if most of the light had been absorbed into the black void that was his armor. Never taking his eyes off the scrib or his strange smile off his face, Ndugu cocked his head to the right and cracked some of his neck bones. The grip he had on his Creasant Blade tightened slightly and he jumped at the scrib, charging full force!

"LET'S DANCE!" he yelled as he laughed maniacally and plummeted into the frontlines.

Wow, only one line of dialogue? It's starting to become a bit more action oriented eh?


End file.
